The Wait
by MarieCiel
Summary: A look into the inner feelings and trials of Eva Ushiromiya, long before we knew her as one of Rokkenjima's many victims. Her story as never told before.  Please read, review and enjoy !


_Disclaimer: I do not own anything of Umineko no Naku Koro ni; I own only the original content of this story. If I _did_ own Umineko, there would be a whole lot more BeatricexBattler cuteness and more Eva. :3 Which leads me to the reason for this story._

_*drumroll* This is my thiiiird fic~! :D With this one, I tried to simplify my writing, as my usual style is a bit...flowery. ^^ I intended for this one to be a bit shorter as well, but that didn't happen either... _

_Small note: This is rated T only for some minor language...one-time use of the F word. So nothing terribly explicit. ^^  
_

_I greatly enjoyed writing this little piece. Please read, REVIEW and enjoy! Especially that second one~! :) Ahaha!  
_

_~Marie Ciel_

_"Hey, what do you want to do, you know…once you graduate?"_

The bright pink feather duster caused the telephone disappear momentarily, enveloping it entirely in its merry color. After a few seconds it continued on its way, the phone appearing exactly as it had before, not a single visible blemish on its smooth black frame.

Though the duster never paused, the woman holding it did. Her fiery eyes slipped over the phone once, twice…it remained the same, never changing. The woman sighed heavily and continued her dusting.

"_I'm not sure…maybe I'll be something like a doctor or a lawyer! What about you? What do you want to do?"_

A sharp ringing cut through the silence, making the dusting woman turn toward the telephone quickly, her eyes lighting up with something that might have been hope. The duster flew from her hand as she dove for the phone, catching the receiver awkwardly as she lost her balance. Then, catching _herself_ before she collapsed entirely and once she had assured herself that there was no one else around who could have seen her fall, she returned her attention to the phone. Several days' worth of anticipation tied her stomach into impossibly tight knots. "H-hello?" She began shakily.

"Eva? This is Krauss."

The light in Eva's eyes flickered out, her delighted expression melting away, leaving crushing disappointment. "Oh, it's _you_."

"Yes, it is." Her brother's voice responded tightly. "Natsuhi wanted me to check and see how you were holding up."

"Fuck off, Krauss!" She snapped, moving like she was about to slam down the phone.

As if he could see this, Krauss then added hurriedly, "I know it's hard right now! Natsuhi and I wanted to make sure that you were okay."

"Well, I'm fine." She responded coldly. "Thanks for your concern." Her voice was filled with biting sarcasm.

Krauss sighed, making the phone crackle. "I'll be sure to tell Natsuhi. Now, I don't want to be tying up your phone line, so now I'll just say goodby-"

Eva hung up, cutting him off. Tying up her phone line, indeed. She allowed herself a moment to silently curse at her brother before retrieving the feather duster from off the carpet and returning to her furious dusting.

She worked her away around the living room, dusting off every little object she could find. She passed by the couch, covered in several blankets and pillows- she had been sleeping there for nearly a week.

A low rumble sounded and Eva placed her hand on her stomach in embarrassment. With one more furtive glance to the phone, she tore off down the hall, toward the kitchen.

"_I'm going to join the army and protect my country! Maybe we're not at war right now, but at least I can defend the ports or something, right?"_

In a matter of minutes, Eva returned with a bowl of soup and a spoon, covering the top of the bowl with a tupperware lid so her lunch would not spill as she ran. She sat down on the couch and began to spoon the soup delicately into her mouth, ever watching the phone as if engrossed in watching a scene in a film.

When she finished, she set the bowl onto the coffee table gently, not wishing to leave the room again in order to put it in the sink to be washed. For how many days was it now- five, or six? She had lost count- she had lived in her living room, as it was the only room that held her precious phone. Her home was a grand manor, a gift from her father that her other siblings had similarly received. If she did ever leave the living room, she spent that time in constant fear that she would be too far away in her large house to hear the phone ring. It was too important to even think of risking it.

Eva picked up a small hand mirror and briefly studied her reflection. Her hair still remained fairly tidy, falling nearly to her chin to frame her thin, pale face with scorching locks of orange. Her eyes bore shadows beneath them, hallmarks of many sleepless nights. It had become habitual to lie awake with worry until, at some hour of the morning, she would finally cry herself to sleep.

"_You always have your hair down." A young man and woman, high school upperclassmen in appearances and quite obviously a couple, sat together on a bench at the edge of a park. The moon cast a quiet silver light upon them. The young man had just spoken, and his girlfriend blinked curiously at him. "Why don't you wear it up?"_

"_It's easier to just brush it out in the morning and not do anything to it. Wh-why do you ask? Do you like it better up?" She touched her hair self-consciously._

"_I like it either way- you look beautiful all the time!" He replied amiably. "But I do like it up, quite a bit." He smiled coyly._

"_Up? Like this?" The young woman gathered her hair into her fist and pulled it to the top of her head. She dug into her pants pocket, producing a small hair clip which she used to secure her hair in place. She looked warily to her boyfriend, searching his expression for a reaction. "It probably looks stupid…" She muttered._

"_No, no!" Her boyfriend waved his hand airily, his dark eyes sparkling. "I like it a lot! See, with your hair up like this, I can do this…" He leaned in quickly and kissed her cheek._

_The woman jumped a little, startled. "W-well…" She mumbled, reddening, "I suppose I can wear my hair like this…b-but I'm sure it looks stupid!"_

_The man smiled, his warm breath tickling her ear. "The most beautiful girl in the world could never look stupid." When his girlfriend turned to face him, her eyes wide, he took advantage of it and kissed her on the lips as well. "Yes, yes," He murmured, sensing her unspoken response. "I'm talking about you!" When he said this, his voice had changed slightly._

"_Stop using that dumb Kansai accent!" she accused._

"_But don't you think it makes me sound more sophisticated?" He joked, still using the strange accent._

"_You don't need to sound sophisticated. You're perfect just the way you are."_

"_But I do need to sound sophisticated! Otherwise your father will think me a mere commoner and he'll never let me marry you!"_

_The woman laughed softly. "Well in that case we'll just have to elope, right?"_

"_Well, if you want to live that dangerously, then…" His eyes flashed, accompanied by a sly smile. "My my, you certainly are different when you put your hair up!" He teased._

Eva smiled a little at her reflection, gathering her hair into her fist and pulling it to the top of her head. "How's this?" She mused to herself, turning a bit so she could see all angles. Still holding her hair up tightly, she rushed into the small bathroom just off of the living room- the only other room she allowed herself in, other than hurried trips to the nearest kitchen.

She pulled open the top drawer of the vanity, shuffling through various hair care products before happening upon a hair clip. This she pushed into her hair, holding it up in place.

Sauntering back into the living room, she sat down in an overly large armchair, directly beside the end table with the phone. She leaned back into the seat, settling in and placing her arms onto the armrests. She liked the feeling of power it gave her- it felt like her father's armchair, the one that belonged only to the family head. She could remember sneaking into it as a small child, hoping that someday, when she was older, she would have the right to sit there.

It was comforting, this thought, as it came just when she felt completely powerless. Someday she would control all family affairs; she would dictate the use of the family fortune; she would be powerful.

But just then, she was in control of nothing; she dictated nothing; she held no power. Instead she sat, trapped in her living room, at the complete mercy of that silent black telephone.

_One a month_…she lived for that one allowed telephone ring per month. However, last month had struck her with a nagging worry- her phone did not ring. Rather, it did ring, but it was not the call she was waiting for. It was now the last week of the following month, and the only call she had received was from her brother.

Folded up next to the telephone was an old yellow handkerchief, printed with Eva's initials. The last time she had touched it was a day so long ago, the date had faded away in her memory. Still she could remember, however, the way she stood wrapped up in a black overcoat and shivering from the sea breeze, her trembling hand clutching the handkerchief and waving it in the air. Many other young women like her stood around her, most of them waving white handkerchiefs. Eva had chosen her yellow one instead so that, even as the large ship glided toward the horizon, _he_ could still see which of the tearful women on shore was shedding tears just for him.

"_Come on now, love," The young man soothed his new fiancée, gently rubbing her back and shoulder. "You know that I have to do this. I need to do this. I promise I'll come back home all safe and sound." He kissed her tearstained lips, then her forehead._

"_I know!" The woman cried out. She bit her lip to silence her own sobbing and looked up at her fiancé. His dark hair was already cut short in the military style, no longer falling in haphazard bangs around his kind face. This only made her sobbing begin anew._

_The man gently shushed her and kissed her again. "How about…when I come back, I'll bring you flowers, too? To prove to your father that I'm not cheap, I'll find some exotic ones that we can only import in Japan. How about that?"_

_It was clear that nothing would sway her fiancé's conviction. "How about…" she fought down her sobs to speak. "When you come back, you ditch the fake Kansai accent?"_

_The man sighed and smiled sadly. "You certainly drive a hard bargain, sweetheart." His fiancée managed a smile as well._

_Ring. Ring. Ring._

Eva snapped to attention, the blurry scene from her memory blown away by a sudden sound, her vision instead filled with her living room.

The phone!

Her face lit up and she dove for the telephone, half-falling out of the armchair as she did so. She slammed the receiver against her ear, her hand trembling just as it had the day she had said goodbye. "Hello…?"

"Good afternoon. Is this Ms. Eva Ushiromiya?"

Eva caught herself nodding. "Y-yes, it is!" She answered.

The voice on the other end was even and solemn. As it continued to speak, the gravity of its words was reflected in Eva's expression. Her eyes grew wide, their fiery color erupting to life; her lips formed a jubilant, triumphant smile, growing with every passing word. Now her entire body was trembling- no longer from apprehension, but with delight.

"Yes, sir! Thank you so much, sir!" She cried and placed the receiver back on the table. For a moment, she was frozen in pure joy.

"He's coming home!" She yelled, not caring if anyone could hear her or not. She could hardly believe that the words she had spoken were true. She spun around in the center of the room, wrapping her arms around herself, repeating those wonderful words, "he's coming home, he's coming home…" over and over, tears running freely down her face.

_Ring._

A ringing sound made Eva stop and look to the phone in confusion. However, this time, the ebony monster sat silent. It was then she realized that it was in fact not the telephone, but ringing of a different sort.

It was the doorbell.

~end~


End file.
